Goyle's Reflections
by bla338
Summary: Goyle reflects on his time spent with Crabbe at Hogwarts.


**Goyle's Reflections**

I am old now. I don't know why I am telling this story. Perhaps, I am trying to relieve myself of the heavy burden that was placed on me the moment I became Draco Malfoy's friend, or I am simply trying to rid myself of the memory of Vincent – whom many of you know as Crabbe. Whatever the reason, I suppose I should start at the beginning.

The moment I stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express I knew my life would change. My best friend, Vincent Crabbe, stood next to me. Our eyes were wide with wonder trying to take in all the sites. We saw the candy cart pass by, we saw a group of Perfects walk by proudly wearing their school robes, and we saw Harry Potter himself slip into a compartment.

The moment I saw Harry, I knew that we would either end up close friends or enemies. Of course, at the time I wanted to be the former, and I now realize that maybe if we were friends Vincent would still be here.

Anyways, Vincent and I hurried to find ourselves a compartment far away from all the noise. We managed to grab a nice compartment at the end of the train that was unusually close to the boys' bathrooms. When I close my eyes, I can vivdly picture his face lit up with excitement as he began to talk about how much he couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts.

Somewhere in our conversation, Draco Malfoy had thrown open the door to the compartment and muttered an apology that I thought didn't sound sincere. I had half a mind to tell him to leave the compartment, but Vincent had welcomed the blond boy in. From that moment on, Vincent looked up to Draco. He wanted to be able to radiate the same kind of effortless power that Draco did. We both wanted to be like Draco. And thus our group of two became one member larger.

In third year, I had discovered Draco's father was a Death Eater. The fact had surprised Vincent and me greatly because Draco had been so wealthy. Most Death Eater's lost all their fortune when the Dark Lord vanished after the First Wizarding War. Only a handful of pureblood wizards kept their fortunes. Curious as to how much money other Death Eater's were making I had done some research.

Lucius Malfoy had made over three million galleons a year. Pansy Parkinson's father made close to two and half million. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott's parents made a hefty two million dollar pay. My father barely managed to make a thousand galleons a year, and Vincent's father could only make half of that.

Draco made it a habit to flaunt whatever money he had around us. "Do you guys like my _new_ robes? Did you see the _new_ broom I received?" Everything Draco had was better than whatever scraps Vincent and I had. Our robes were hand-me-downs worn by our father's and our father's fathers. Our brooms were only mere splints of wood that had probably been around for generations, and that could only be used for emergencies.

But despite Draco's constant need to act superior Vincent and I stuck by his side. The same way we grew dependent on Draco he grew dependent on us. Whether or not it was intended, the three of us grew to be best friends.

I had later learned that Draco had only acted the way he did because it was the only way he could feel like he was worth anything. The Dark Lord had made a mockery of our families, and all the other children that attended school with us continued to make fun of our parents. The children teased most of the Slytherins for being related to Death Eaters, and they enjoyed making us even more of outcasts than we already were.

The only friends the three of us could ever hope to obtain were other Slytherins. I guess that was how the Slytherin house became one large bundle of friends unlike the other houses (you could lock two people from the same house in the same room and there is a seventy-five percent chance they wouldn't know each other, meanwhile, you could point at any random Slytherin and anyone in our house could tell you everything about that person.

We met Pansy, Theodore, Blaise, and Millicent when the odd group of four had been cornered in a hallway by a particularly nasty group of Gryffindors. Immediately, Draco pulled out his wand and managed to smooth talk the group out of attacking our fellow Slytherins. Once the Gryffindors left, introductions were made and we became a group of seven.

Our time was often passed by making fun of the Golden Trio and by studying for classes. A fact that was never well known was that Vincent and I were tied for having the third highest grades in the whole school. The only two that were ranked above us were Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. People had assumed because we were buff and we acted like bodyguards for Draco that we had no ability to think for ourselves.

Draco was the only person who acknowledged Vincent and me when we got good marks on our OWLs. Our other teachers refused to even mention us on the Honor Roll list. They would right a page long tribute to Granger and whoever else ranked on the Top Five Students of the Year Award, but they never once mentioned our names.

I liked to assume that this was the reason Vincent and I became so ready to join the Death Eaters when the time came. Voldemort acknowledged our accomplishments and placed us on a higher rank than other Death Eaters. I still like to think that maybe if Hogwarts had acknowledged our potential and our good marks that we would've been able to picture ourselves working _with_ the Ministry. But we didn't and we never would, and sixth year came more quickly than I would have liked.

The day that Draco had opened the vanishing cabinet and let the Death Eaters loose in the school I knew there was no going back. But it was also that day that the three of us began to have doubts. When Draco had cornered Dumbledore in the Astronomy Tower, he began doubting the logic in killing innocent people. It was when Vincent and I saw Snape drag Draco away from the school that Vincent and I began to doubt the logic in this Wizarding war.

Seventh year came and went, and soon enough the Great Battle (also known as the Second Wizarding War) took place. Before the battle, Draco, Vincent, and I walked through the halls knowing that there was a high chance one of us might not make it. When I mentioned the probability of us making it out alive, Draco had grown angry. He made the two of us swear that we would do everything in our power to stay alive. I remember him saying that all we had left was each other.

The three of us had followed Harry Potter to the Room of Requirement. Draco hadn't wanted to harm anyone; no, he had given that up back in sixth year. All he wanted was his wand back. It was when Harry Potter started firing hexes off everywhere that Vincent panicked and let lose the Fiendfyre spell. Even now I could picture his face as he fell off the tower of books we had been climbing.

Once we were safely out of the room, Draco and I cried. The two of us held each other for a moment trying to convince ourselves that it wasn't true. We were trying to convince ourselves that at any moment Vincent would walk out of those doors smiling and laughing at us for being stupid and showing weakness in front Potter.

We waited two hours.

For two hours, we stood alone suddenly aware of how empty the school was without Vincent.

The two of us slowly made our way through the school that was falling apart. We made our way into the courtyard where we had spent so many of our times laughing and talking. We made our way through the Grand Hall where we could still picture Vincent sitting at his usual spot laughing at me for eating every meal as though it was my last. We eventually made our way to front steps were everyone that was left alive was standing.

On one side there were Death Eaters and on the other side were the people fighting against the Dark Lord. Draco and I looked at each and hugged and I told him to stay alive. He told me the same thing.

He had approached the Dark Lord's side just as Potter leapt out of the arms of Hagrid. The two sides began fighting, and from my spot on the top step, I noticed Draco holding his mother's hand as his family walked away from the war. It wasn't until then that I realized it was never too late to walk away.

And now I am left here writing this letter to whoever may read it in the near yet distant future. I have long since grown old and frail. I have watched Narcissa and Lucius die, I have watched Pansy marry Draco only to die in childbirth, and I have watched the only friend of mine besides Vincent die from illness. Everyone I have ever known – including all three members of the Golden Trio – has died. It appears I am the only person alive who remembers the Great Battle, and who still carries the memories of death that day had brought.

I am too old to leave my bed and wander around the gardens as I once did when I was younger. I am too old to see how the world is changing. I am too old to risk the pain that will overtake me if I visit the graves of my loved ones.

As I sit here and scribble out these last few words, I feel weariness seep into my bones. I know that once I close my eyes I will never open them again, and that I will be with my friends once more. Even now I can look over at my bedside and see Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe standing next to me. As I stare in disbelief at what must obviously be a hallucination of some sort, I can't help but notice that the two of them look like how they did back on our first day of school. I can't help but notice that they look young and youthful; I can't help but notice that they look how they did when they were young and pure.

I have accepted my fate, and I pray that my sins have been forgiven and I can go to heaven so I can once again be with Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe. I pray that when I have reached heaven that the three of us can go back to being best friends, and live out our lives on the other side as if the Wizarding Wars never happened.

I can only hope.

Signed,

~_Gregory Goyle a friend and brother to Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe_

**Fin**


End file.
